Please, Stay
by BaseballBatofStydia
Summary: When Lydia Martin moved to Beacon Hills, she'd hoped that she could have a fresh start. Maybe if she didn't live around all the memories, she could forget. But now she's beginning to learn that the past doesn't just go away. The only comfort that she can find is in her next door neighbor, Stiles, who seems to have as many nightmares as she does.
1. Prologue

_"Where am I? I want to go home! I want to go home!"_

The woman's cries echoed around the dark halls, wrapping themselves around the boy like spider webs, encasing him in the desperation and fear. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked back and forth, wanting nothing more than to make the pain go away.

Stiles Stilinski sat bolt up right, shaking and sweating in his bed. Hell. He raked his fingers through his hair and let out an uneven breath.

"It's over, Stiles," he whispered to himself. "you can go back to sleep."

Instead of going back to sleep he got up and paced the room in a circle, something that he found helped calm him down. He turned to the window and paused. there was a light on in the house across from his. The house had been empty for years but there it was, plain as day.

A girl walked into view, running her fingers through her long hair. Her hair was a beautiful strawberry blond, wavy and thick... Stiles made himself turn his gaze away from her. When he let himself look back again she was gone, making him wonder if he was losing his mind or if she was real.


	2. Tree Time

"Lydia! Sweetheart it's time to get up." There was a knock at the door. "I let you sleep as long as I could," her mom said apologetically.

Lydia opened the door, revealing that she was fully dressed, leaving only hair and makeup left. "I'm up," she said. "I was just getting dressed." She'd chosen a dress with a floral pattern and a handkerchief hem.

"Are you nervous? New school." Natalie crossed the room and sat on Lydia's bed.

"No," Lydia lied easily. she went to her vanity and started her makeup. "All high schools are the same."

"I'm sorry about the move," Natalie said quietly. "You know how it goes when-"

"Yeah, I get it," Lydia interrupted. "It's fine."

"Here." Natalie came behind her and began to braid her hair. Lydia closed her eyes at the familiarity of the touch for just a second. Then she pulled herself back and finished her makeup. When her mother finished her hair, Lydia got to her feet and straightened her dress out. "It's okay to be nervous," Natalie said quietly.

"I'm not. They're just teenagers."

* * *

"No way! Spider-Man is way better than the Hulk!"

"You're both wrong because Thor is the best."

"Thor?" Stiles scoffed. "So muscles are more important to you than brains?"

"Yeah. I'm not a chick." Thom leaned back in his seat and shrugged.

"Girls like muscles," Matt pointed out.

"Damn I hope not," Stiles joked. He grabbed a fry off of Scott's plate and popped it in his mouth.

"Hey check it out." Scott elbowed Stiles and nodded to the door of the diner. "It's that new girl."

Stiles followed Scott's gaze and felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. She was beautiful. 5'3", strawberry blonde hair, hazel eyes... he felt like he'd seen her before but he couldn't place it.

"You okay man?" Scott asked.

Stiles slowly got up. "I'm gonna invite her to sit with us."

"What?" Matt blinked. "Dude."

Stiles ignored him and made his way to the front of the diner. As he approached, she turned to face him. "Hi," he said. "My name is Stiles Stilinski. Would you like to sit with us?"

"Oh," she said, "I actually..." Jackson and his crew came in and Stiles stepped back.

"Ah. Right. That's totally fine..."

He watched her walk away with the group. She cast him a look over her shoulder before sitting. Jackson hung back and smirked at Stiles. "Really?" He asked. "You thought a girl like that would talk to you?"

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away. "I just thought she'd avoid you and your crabs."

"That was a rumor," Jackson snarled behind him. Stiles smirked and went to his table, sliding back into the booth beside Scott.

"What's her name?" He asked, letting his eyes wander to the girl again.

"Lydia, I think," Scott said, following Stiles's gaze.

"Dude stop staring at her," Thom hissed. "You're embarrassing me."

Stiles ignored him, only jerking his gaze away when she caught him looking. About five minutes after that, Lydia got up and walked out of the diner.

"Come back!" Danny called. "She didn't mean it!"

"Screw her," Ashley said.

"Oh man don't do it," Matt said just as Stiles got to his feet and raced after her.

"Hang on," he said as he exited the building. "Lydia, right?"

She eyed him distrustfully and nodded. "Yeah. Stiles Stilinski?" She was by the curb, as if planning to walk home.

"Yeah." He tried to pretend that his name on her lips didn't make his heart jump on his chest. "Hi. Look I... Do you want a ride home?" He motioned at his Jeep.

She hesitated before turning and walking to the Jeep. He stared in disbelief then jogged over and opened her door. She glanced at him before getting in. He went around and got in, wishing that he had cleaned it out.

"Where am I going?" He asked.

"I don't have the address memorized yet," she said apologetically. "But I know where to go. Right up here and then the first left."

"Great. When did you move in?"

"Just a couple days ago actually."

He nodded. "Well, welcome to Beacon Hills."

"Thank you."

"Do you mind if I ask what happened with Jackson's friends?"

Lydia hesitated and then said slowly, "I just didn't buy into their bullshit. They didn't like that so much and I left. I don't need to be popular."

"Most people don't think that way."

"I didn't use to," she said quietly, looking out the window. "Left at this stop sign."

Stiles turned onto his street and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "How far?"

"The blue house."

Stiles grinned softly and pulled into his usual spot. "You're right next door to me."

"Really?" She scrunched her nose. "Who would have guessed?"

"Right?" He got out and opened her door.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

She eyed him. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Guess so."

She turned and walked into her house without another word.

* * *

Lydia pulled on her nightgown and looked in the bathroom mirror. The day did not go according to plan. She had planned to not show fear, climb the social ladder just as she had back home. But that didn't happen.

She found herself bored with the superficial discussions, irritated by the gossip and cruel words. Something had happened to her after the incident. She wasn't sure she liked it. Lydia but her lip and went into her bedroom. She pulled her window open and slipped out into the big tree between her house and the house beside her. Was that one Stiles's or was it the one on the other side? She sat on the branch, close to the trunk, and looked at the sky. Maybe this move was for the best. Maybe things would get better. She couldn't be messed up forever right?

A sound startled her and she turned in time to see Stiles slide out of the window across from hers. "Hey," she said.

"Hi... Sorry. Am I interrupting your tree time?"

"My what?"

Stiles perched against his windowsill. "My mom planted that tree a long time ago. She would go out there and call it her tree time."

She smiled softly. "I like it. And no you're not. I wouldn't mind company."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Stiles bit his lip. "You sure?"

"Stiles. Stay."

He didn't need to be told again. He sat on the other side of the trunk. "So. Your parents get a job offer or something?"

"My dad." Lydia picked at a piece of bark. She didn't say that her parents were retrying a relationship that had already failed, that she and her mom had to move with him for a "fresh start". She didn't say that there was a ghost in their house that no one could ignore. She knew Stiles could tell that she was holding back. He didn't push it.

"My dad's the sheriff," he said after a minute. "He's pretty damn good." The pride was evident in his voice.

Lydia couldn't help but smile. "You two are close?"

"Yeah. He's one of my best friends."

"Keep that." Lydia hoped she didn't sound sad when she spoke. She swung her legs and stared down at the grass.

"So..." Stiles said slowly. "Got a boyfriend back home?"

A corner of her lips twitched without permission. She glanced at him. He was sweet, that was for sure. He seemed nice too. But she just got here. She needed to be careful. "No. I'm focusing on..." She trailed off. She didn't want to say "myself" so she said "family." instead.

He smiled at her. "More people our age should do that."

"Yeah," she said quietly. Silence fell between them. Lydia had never been truly comfortable with someone in silence before. But they just sat there and enjoyed tree time until they retreated to their beds.

* * *

_"Lydia! Just turn up the music!" Courtney reached forward For the radio._

_"I said no!" She slapped Courtney's hand away. "Turner is asleep in the back. I can't believe you Courtney. It's only six o'clock." Courtney pouted at her and reached for the radio. The next thing Lydia knew, all she could see were headlights and all she could do was scream._

Lydia woke up sweaty and shaking. She dropped her head into her hands and tried not to cry. The past was never going to leave her alone.

* * *

_Thanks for reading guys! The update will be soon! Please let me know what you think!_


	3. Combinations

_**Big thanks to those of you reading! I hope you've been enjoying and I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint! Let me know what you think!**_

* * *

"So who is she?"

Stiles took a bite of his hamburger and leaned back into the car seat. "Who?"

"I'm not stupid." Sheriff smiled and shot his son a glance. "There's a girl."

"Nah."

"Nah? You gonna ask her out?"

"Hell no."

"Language." Sheriff reached for a fry only to have Stiles bat his hand away. "Why not?"

"Because I like this girl." He looked at his dad as if that should explain it.

"In my days," Sheriff began.

"The time of the dinosaurs," Stiles put in.

"Exactly. We used to actually ask girls out when we liked them," Sheriff said.

"What? What a brand new concept! Tell me more!" Stiles swatted his dad's hand away as he reached for another fry.

"Well you see we would take the girls out and give them flowers and chocolates."

"Wow! No way!" Another reach. Another swat.

"Oh just give me a fry."

"No way, dinosaur." Stiles popped one in his mouth. "Also I do know what dates are. But I don't think she's available."

"Ah. Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No. I'm not sure what it is. Just a feeling." Stiles took a handful of fries and put them in his mouth. "Honestly I'd be happy just being her friend."

"What's her name?"

"Lydia."

* * *

Lydia leaned against the tree trunk and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze pushing her hair back. With a contented sigh, she climbed back in her window, finally feeling ready to handle dinner. As she made her way downstairs, she could hear it already, making her stop in her tracks.

"I don't know what you want from me Natalie! I'm trying!"

"All I'm asking for is a little understanding."

"Understanding? She used to be the star of the school and now she has no friends. We've been here for weeks. I'm allowed to be concerned."

"I'm not saying that you're not. You just need to let her adjust Tom."

They were arguing. And not only were they arguing but it was about her. Lydia took a deep breath and turned into the room. She held her head high, walked to the kitchen, and started setting the table. Pretend you didn't hear, she told herself

"Hey Lydia. How'd homework go?" Tom asked, pretending like he hadn't just been talking about her.

"Fine." She sat at her seat and put her chin in her hand, looking at him. "What's for dinner?"

"Lasagna." Natalie set it on the table.

"Oh, great," Lydia said. "Turner loves-" She stopped talking. Silence hit the table like a brick. "Loved. Turner..." She bit her lip and got up. "Sorry." She couldn't look at them, especially her dad. "I'm sorry." She ran upstairs. No one stopped her. No one called after her.

_My fault. My fault. I'm sorry._

Lydia was out the window before she could think about it. She was barefoot but didn't care. All she wanted was to be out of the house, away from the lasagna, away from her father's sorrow and the sad attempt that he and her mom were making.

_Don't cry. Don't cry._

She took a shaky breath and stared at the house across the street. She had to pull herself together. She was supposed to be okay by now. But she couldn't let it go.

"Hey, Lydia."

She looked down at the ground and couldn't stop a smile when she noticed Stiles. "Hey there." She swung her legs back and forth. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?"

"Imagine that." Stiles grinned up at her. His grin faltered as he watched her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Stiles, it's okay. You can ask. I won't be angry." She felt resigned to it more than anything. Of course he was going to ask. Of course he was going to know.

"Are you okay?"

"I am perfectly fine." She forced her smile to be wider, more convincing. "I just... I decided I wasn't hungry so I left dinner."

"Oh." He bit his lip, looking away from her. A twisted, lopsided smile wove its way onto his face. It looked as if he were trying to cover something... Anxiety, sadness, disappointment... But what would it be?

"What is it?"

"Ah, nothing. I was just about to invite you for dinner but if-"

"Yes." Lydia was surprised by how fast she answered. She was supposed to keep things closed. She was supposed to be coy, mysterious. She wasn't suppose to show how badly she needed a friend, how badly she wanted to be understood.

"Yes?" It transformed his entire face. He turned to look up at her, his eyes brightening, his mouth turning into a disbelieving grin. Lydia felt herself warmed by this. He was quite possibly one of the most sincere people she had ever met.

"Yes." She started to climb down the tree and, when she got close enough to the bottom, jumped down.

"Great. I think my dad's starting to think I made you up." Stiles grinned at her and led her into his backyard.

"You've talked to your dad about me?" For some reason that fact made her feel warm and happy in a way that she never had before, which was crazy. Lydia had dated, she had had boyfriends, she'd been through "the chase" before.

Stiles's jaw dropped a little, as if he hadn't realized what he'd said before. "I... Well, just a mention."

"Ah. I see." She smiled and glanced away, biting her lip.

Stiles opened the back door and motioned for her to go in. As she stepped passed him, she glanced over and smiled to herself as she noticed his clothes today. Red skinny jeans, sneakers, a white t-shirt with what had to be a tv show reference on it, and a suit jacket over it. It was an insane combination, absolutely crazy, and yet it was perfect.

His dad turned to face them from his spot by the stove and lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey, Stiles." He stepped away from the stove and held out a hand to Lydia. "I'm John Stilinski."

"Hi. I'm Lydia. I live next door." She smiled and shook his hand. "We just moved in."

"Well, it's nice to meet you." John smiled at her before going back to the stove. "You like the tree, hmm?"

Lydia smiled. "I do. Your wife planted it?"

"She did. She spent a lot of time out there before she passed."

Lydia started. She looked at Stiles, who avoided her gaze. He hadn't told her that he'd lost his mother. She wondered when it had happened. She wanted to ask but, of course, she couldn't. You don't ask things like that.

"I'm sure. It's peaceful," she said instead, tearing her gaze from Stiles. "Can I help you cook at all?"

John shook his head. "I'm almost done. We're just having spaghetti. That okay with you?"

"Spaghetti is great," Lydia said, grateful that it wasn't lasagna. That was the last thing she needed.

A strange thing happened that night. As Lydia sat down with Stiles and his dad for dinner, she found herself laughing and joking. She found herself feeling completely comfortable. There was no judgement, no walls that needed to be kept up. No one knew about April. No one knew about Courtney and no one knew about Turner. She wondered how long she could keep it like this, how long she could have this safe place before it would surely be taken from her.

Without having to think about it first, she helped clear the table. Her favorite part of that was that no one questioned her. They gave her amused looks, sure, but instead of insisting that she sit back down, they just joined her. She helped Stiles with the dishes then, laughed as he put on the radio and mouthed along with it into the soapy sponge.

And then, when he pulled her to him and started dancing around the kitchen with her, she didn't feel uncomfortable, or like she was expected to do anything. She just felt happy, at peace, like she could relax and enjoy this one, simple dance.

He spun her in a circle after the song ended and winked at her jokingly. "You're damn good. Better be careful. I might make you dance all the time."

Lydia laughed. "I think I can handle that."

"Oh yeah? Is that what you think?" Stiles grinned. "I'm a lot to handle. Aren't I, Dad?" he called out.

"Yup," came the response from the table. Mr. Stilinski was going over some work files, which Stiles said he had been doing even more than usual lately.

Lydia grinned and went back to the sink to rinse the last dish, which she then placed in the rack. "There." She looked at the clock and sighed softly. "I should be getting home..."

"I'll walk you."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "It's next door."

"There could be a killer waiting." He grinned at her and led the way out the door.

"Bye, Mr. Stilinksi. Thank you!" Lydia said as she followed Stiles out.

"You know," Stiles said quietly as they walked across the grass. "You're welcome there anytime." He looked at her and his brown eyes were so sincere that it hurt.

"Thank you." She stopped at her door and looked at him. "I mean it."

"Me too."

She gave him a small smile and opened the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

She watched him for a few more moments before finally going inside the house. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. What was happening to her?

* * *

When she woke up later that night, it was to screams. To her surprise, however, they weren't hers. They were a boy's. She got out of bed quickly and started moving as if she knew exactly where to go because, somehow, she did. She peered out the window and squinted, trying to make out what was happening. But all she could see was slight movement in the darkness. The screams stopped.

Lydia waited ten minutes before climbing out the window. She leaned forward to Stiles's open window and whispered, "Are you okay?"

She saw him jump in bed and look over, maroon shirt sticking to his chest. Stiles slowly got up. "Lydia?"

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I... It was stupid. I shouldn't have come."

"No..." His eyes softened. "I'm glad you did."

She bit her lip. "Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah." Stiles stepped aside and she slipped in. "Did I wake you up?"

"It doesn't matter."

"So that means yes." He looked away, dark eyes darkening further as whatever had plagued him seemed to return a little. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get them too. I've woken my parents up more than I'd like to ad..." She trailed off, realizing that she just had admitted it. She wouldn't even talk to her parents about her nightmares but it seemed different with Stiles. He understood, that was clear.

He sat back on the bed, watching her. "Really?"

"Yeah..." She sat down beside her. "Really. I actually don't know why I just told you that."

"I'm glad you did. And I hope I can make it so that you are too someday." He looked at his hands. "I woke my dad up with them again. He comes in every time. Every damn time. I don't know what I'd do-" He cut himself off abruptly and looked out the window. "I like that tree."

"Me too," Lydia said quietly. A small smile inched over half of her face and so she joked, "It lets me come check on you at night."

Stiles gave a small chuckle. "So, now, my statement becomes thank God for that tree." He fell quiet again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lydia asked quietly.

Stiles shook his head. "No. I don't talk about it." He ran his thumb along the knuckles of his other hand. "It's easier that way." He looked at her, his eyes digging right into her soul. "What about you?"

"I don't talk about mine either," she whispered. In her mind, she could see the headlights, hear herself screaming, see Courtney... She cut her thoughts off and whispered, "I can't."

When she looked back up Stiles was still watching her. Finally, he whispered, "If I ever hear you... Can I come see you?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I'd like that."

Stiles looked out the window again. "What a combination we make," he murmured.

Lydia followed his gaze and looked at the tree. "What a combination," she whispered back.


	4. Safe Place To Land

**_Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, reads, and follows! I can't wait to progress this story and I hope you continue to like it!_**

* * *

_"You can't leave me! You can't! I'm not ready." His voice was shaking. But his everything was shaking, why shouldn't his voice?_

_"You won't be alone. You're never alone. You can do it. You're strong."_

_"No I can't." Stiles fell to his knees. "Don't go. Please," he choked out. "Stay."_

_"I'm sorry, son..." The hand that was holding his slowly slipped from his grasp._

Stiles sat bolt up right in bed and gave a horrified cry, shaking and twisting in his sheets, trying to get away from whatever was holding him. "No! No! Don't! You can't go! Come back!" His screams were choked and constricted by sobs.

The door opened and his father barreled in, sliding easily into bed with him and wrapping his arms around him. Stiles grabbed his father's arms and gave another sob, this one more out of relief. His parent. He'd lost one of the but he had one. He wasn't alone.

"I know," whispered his father. "I have you. I have you."

"It's not fair," Stiles choked out after a few minutes. "It's not fair."

"I know..."

Stiles leaned into his father and closed his eyes. They stayed like that until his breathing was slower, more even. Then his father slowly moved his arms. Stiles felt panicked tears prick his eyes again. Don't go, he wanted to say. But instead he croaked out, "Goodnight..."

Sheriff ruffled his hair before going to the door. "Go ahead and let Lydia in now." He gave his son a wink before slipping out the door. Stiles barely had time to turn to the window before Lydia slid inside.

He got to his feet and the moment her arms slid around him, he did something he had sworn he wouldn't do with her. He started crying. She held him without asking any questions. She didn't have to.

They'd been comforting each other after nightmares for about a month now. They pretty much had a routine but, this time, it was different.

Lydia stayed.

The first thing Stiles felt in the morning was complete confusion. There was beautiful, strawberry blonde hair on his pillow. That hair was not his for sure. The first thought that jumped to his head was impossible, completely impossible. Because she was gone. She'd been taken away from him.

She stirred in her sleep and it suddenly clicked. Lydia. Was she really here? He slowly reached out, his knuckles drifting across her shoulder. She stirred and he froze, hand still touching her skin just barely. She was here, and she was real.

"Stiles," she murmured in her sleep. He stared at her, feeling a soft smile weave its way onto his face.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed and crept out the door. The minute that he rounded into the kitchen, his dad said, "So, she stayed the night."

Stiles jumped and took a deep breath. "That wasn't frightening at all, thanks dad. Hey, I've got an idea. Always sit in dark rooms and talk when I walk in."

Sheriff chuckled and took a drink of his coffee. "She stayed."

"She stayed," Stiles repeated. "We didn't do anything."

"I know."

Stiles thought about this for a minute. "That almost insults me."

His father laughed a little and shook his head. "Does she help you?'

"Yeah..." Stiles said slowly. "She does. She makes me feel okay. And I think I can help her too."

"Then I have something for you." His dad slid a folded paper across the table to him. Stiles eyed him for a moment and then unfolded it. There, on the paper, were plans to build a tree house. "Your mom would have loved it. It's simple plans but we could probably have it done in no time."

Stiles stared at the paper before turning his eyes to his dad. "I don't... You'd help us do this?"

"Stiles..." His dad ran his fingers through his hair. "She is finally bringing you some peace. If by some miracle she can get it so that you can sleep again, it's worth a shot. Besides, you need this. You need a safe place. This can be it."

Stiles nodded his head slowly, trying to wrap his head around it. "Thank you."

"Stiles, listen. I want to talk to you about, well, you know."

Stiles froze, his eyes frozen on the paper. He gripped it tightly, crumpling it slightly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I know. But you can't run from this, Stiles."

"Watch me." The words were out before he could stop them. He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just- I'm going to talk to Lyds, show her the plans." He turned and jogged up the stairs. Before going in his room, he rested his hand on the door and gently rested his forehead against the back of his hand. "Please," he whispered, not quite sure who he was talking to, "help me."

Slowly, he turned the knob and slipped back in the room. Lydia was still asleep in the bed. She looked so peaceful that it was hard to connect her with the girl he'd found screaming in her bed two nights ago. She'd thrashed and sobbed in his arms, begging for someone not to go, not to leave. She said "I'm sorry" about ten times before finally coming around and realizing that she was in her bed, safe with Stiles. Then she'd sobbed on him for close to a half an hour. He'd been surprised to go in there and find that her parents weren't in her room already. They didn't come in while he was there either. She told him later that they were out and sometimes they slept through anyway.

Slowly, Stiles lay back down beside her and stared at the ceiling, paper lying on his chest. He should be talking to his dad about this. They should be doing this together, not alone. But was Stiles really doing this at all? When he was awake he didn't let himself think about it, or deal with it. Scott was trying to get it out of him but there was only so much he could do.

_I'm failing. I'm sorry, Mom._

"Stiles?"

He turned his head so he could see Lydia and let a small smile slide onto his face. "Hey..."

"How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well... What about you?"

"About the same..." Lydia sighed softly and looked at the paper on his chest. Her brow furrowed. "What is that?"

He smiled and held it out. "Take a look." She took the paper and unfolded it, her eyes scanning it. He watched her mouth fall into a perfect "o" shape and look up at him. "What do you think?"

"It looks great," she said quietly. "I'd like to do this."

"My dad thinks we could get it done really quickly," Stiles said, smiling at her. "He'll help us. And then if we need a safe place to land after a nightmare we can just... meet there."

She smiled at him and it nearly made his heart stop. Because it was 100% real, 100% happy. The ghost that usually haunted her wasn't there in that moment. She looked at him and all that he could see was honest excitement, honest happiness. He wanted to protect her, to help her keep that. It was all that mattered to him.

* * *

"So, when's the wedding?"

"Shut up." Stiles rolled his eyes and pushed the cart around the corner. "Being with her just makes it easier."

"Have you told her?" Scott grabbed the cart out of his hands and backed it up to the wood that Stiles had passed and needed.

"Told her what?" Stiles pulled out a plank, hoping it could just slide by.

"You know what. What you're dealing with."

"No. She hasn't told me anything yet either. I don't want to burden her."

"Stiles..." Scott shook his head. "Someone has to open the door here. She needs to talk to someone and, whether you think so or not, so do you. You're dealing with some real shit. You need to talk about it. You haven't even said it out loud."

"I have said it out loud." Stiles continued to pile wood.

Scott shook his head. "The only reason I know is I was there with you. You haven't said it."

Stiles sighed and looked up. "So? Is there a handbook for dealing with shit that says you have to announce it?"

"No," Scott said quietly. "But you should. It's good for you."

"No it's not. Scott, I don't want to say it. If I say it, it's real. I don't have to believe it yet. I'll deal with it. Just not now, okay? Just let me have this."

"But you don't have this. Stiles, these nightmares? These aren't healthy."

Stiles held up another piece of wood. "That's why I have this."

Scott bit his lower to lip to stop himself from arguing and instead sighed. He grabbed some wood off of the shelf. "Then let's get building."

* * *

Please review! The next update will be up soon!


	5. Never Alone

I am so very sorry to all of you who have been waiting. It was one heck of a summer.

That being said, I organized my computer files and am making a schedule for publishing and updating. So that won't happen again.

* * *

Lydia leaned back on the balls of her feet and looked up at the building around her. They did it. They actually did it. "We're done," she breathed. She looked at Stiles, who grinned back at her and winked.

"Hmm." Stiles pursed his lips and looked around at the walls. "I don't know. I feel like we need something."

"Like what?" Lydia cocked her head at him. She liked that she could practically see his genius brain going a mile a minute. He bit his lower lip slightly then got to his feet. "I got it." He went into his room through the window then came back out. "Here."

Stiles pinned a picture of him and his mom to the wall and nodded. "What do you think? Is that okay?"

Lydia smiled. "I like it. She should be here. Just because we lose someone doesn't mean they're gone." As she said it she paused. "Actually... Hang on..." She hesitated briefly before going through the window. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out an old picture of her and Turner. Taking a deep breath, she carried it out to the treehouse and pinned it next to Stiles and his mom.

Stiles looked at the picture then at her. Gently he asked, "You lost him?"

"Yeah."

"Who is he?"

Lydia felt like her throat might close up as she answered, "My baby brother."

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispered.

"And I'm sorry about your mom."

"Well hey. We've got them here."

Lydia gave him a small smile. Slowly, tentatively, she slipped her hand into his. She watched him freeze, his eyes close, his breathing relax, and knew that she was in way over her head. But it was worth it. He was worth it. And that feeling scared her senseless.

Lydia jogged downstairs and stopped at the bottom to pull her heels on. "I'm going out with some friends!" She called over her shoulder, hoping she wouldn't be stopped and questioned.

"You are?" The surprise in Natalie's voice made Lydia cringe. She used to go out all the time. And now she rarely did.

"Yes," she said. "I am. Our next door neighbor. I'm meeting him and some of his friends at a movie."

"Oh." Natalie smiled. "I'm glad to hear it." Lydia knew it was true. It wasn't hard for her to figure out that her mother was worried, especially when Lydia hadn't made a lot of friends at school.

"You're not driving are you?" Tom came to stand at his wife's side.

Lydia froze, her mouth falling open slightly at the comment. Maybe he wasn't taking a jab at her? Maybe he meant it innocently. Somehow she doubted it. "no," she said tensely. "We're carpooling from Stiles's house."

Tom nodded. "Good. Make sure he doesn't drink."

"Relax," Lydia snapped. "I wouldn't let anyone drink and be in the same car."

"Must be a new policy."

Lydia glared at him and stormed out of the house. "I'll be back later," she called over her shoulder.

"What time will-" her mom called after her but Lydia slammed the door shut in the middle of her sentence. Part of her wanted to go back and apologize to her mom but then again if Natalie hadn't taken him back that argument wouldn't have happened.

Lydia paused in between their houses and debated if she really wanted to go out and fake a smile. Finally she took a deep breath and knocked on Stiles's door. Sheriff opened it and smiled at her, "Lydia! It's great to see you. They're in the living room."

Lydia followed him into the other room, where Stiles and a few of their classmates were waiting. "Lydia!" They choruses, grinning up at her.

"Hey." She couldn't stop herself from smiling at them. "Where are we going anyway?"

"A movie," Stiles said at the same time Scott said, "Bowling." They looked at each other.

"Bowling and a movie," Isaac explained, getting up.

Lydia couldn't stop a grin from spreading across her face. There was something magical about this group of people.

"It was okay?" Stiles asked, looking at Lydia. He was sitting in his window sill, long legs hanging off.

Lydia let her legs dangle off the tree house. "I loved it. I like your friends. Scott, Isaac, Kira, Allison... They're good people."

"They are. They like you." Stiles smiled at her. "A lot."

"I'm glad..." Lydia smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Stiles smiled to himself as he watched her and he was overwhelmed with the realization that if he wasn't in love with Lydia Martin yet, he could fall in love with her. He could feel it in his heat, this desire to make her happy, to make her safe. He wanted to hear her laugh and see her roll her eyes and walk her to her classes. He wanted to kiss her- oh, man, did he want to kiss her.

"You know what else I like?" Lydia pulled herself into the treehouse more and looked at the two pinned pictures. "These. I like that we have them here."

"Me too. And we have an addition." Stiles grabbed a picture off of his desk and went in the treehouse. He pinned up a picture that his dad had taken of him and Lydia working on the tree house.

Lydia smiled at it and looked at him, her hair framing her face perfectly as the moonlight glittered on her features. "I love it."

"This could be our picture wall," Stiles said quietly, looking in her eyes and wondering if she could see his soul as clearly as he could see hers.

"Absolutely." She let out a quiet sigh as she looked at the wall. "We'll never be alone now."

Stiles couldn't stop a small smile from touching his features. "I haven't been alone for a while now," he whispered, not even sure if she could hear him or not. It didn't matter though. All that mattered was that it was said and that he had her- his perfect guardian angel.


	6. Battlefield

"My mom's invited you to dinner." Lydia poked at her salad and hoped that he wouldn't be interested. But Stiles perked up immediately, eyes practically glowing.

"Really? Tonight? What the hell do I were for that?"

"Clothes." Lydia rolled her eyes and grinned at him, raising her eyebrows slightly. "What you have on is fine. Maybe just toss on one of those suit jackets you have around. Button up shirt too. They'd like that. But the jeans are just fine."

"Are you okay with me coming over?"

"Yeah. Absolutely." It wasn't her parents she wanted to keep safe from Stiles. She didn't want him to have to deal with them.

Lydia's breath caught in her throat when she saw her mom setting that extra place. She fought the urge to call Stiles and tell him not to come- it wasn't worth it. But then she remembered how happy it made him.

And then she saw that her dad had already started on the whiskey and her heart plummeted. She was screwed.

The knock came soon after and Lydia had to force herself to answer it. There was Stiles in a pair of clean jeans, a button up shirt, and a suit jacket. Then, to her surprise, he held out a small group of flowers. "For you and your mom."

Lydia had never been so blown away.

She took the flowers slowly and stepped aside as he came in the house. "Mom? This is Stiles."

Her mom bustled in the hallway and beamed. "Stiles, hi. I'm Natalie." She held out her hand which Stiles shook.

"Hi." He gave her a charming smile and turned as Lydia's dad walked into the entry way, glass of whiskey in his hand. "Hi, Mr. Martin." He held out his hand. There was a long moment of silence before Tom finally shook his hand. "I'm Stiles."

"I see that. Not your usual type." Tom glanced at Lydia with a small, harsh chuckle.

"I'm just a friend," Stiles said quickly. "That's it."

Tom eyed him and then turned back into the kitchen. Lydia bit her lip and looked away angrily.

"Well," Natalie said tentatively. "let's get to dinner then."

Lydia led the way into the dining room, head high, back straight, determined not to let him get to her. Her father was just a dick. Just an ass. He was tipsy already. He wouldn't be acting like this if he was sober and she had to try to not let him get to her tonight.

Before Lydia could sit, Stiles surprised her and pulled her chair out for her with a small, tentative smile. She returned it before sitting down.

They delved into an awkward dinner. After a few moments of silence, Natalie said, "so you and your dad live next door?"

"Yeah," Stiles said. "We've been there forever."

"That's very nice."

"What about your mom?" Tom asked. Lydia grimaced and opened her mouth to intervene. Stiles gave her a small smile and took her hand under the table. She understood the message. It's okay.

"She passed away," Stiles replied. "Frontotemperal dementia."

Lydia looked at him for a moment. He had never told her how she'd passed. Lydia had assumed it had been quick, like Turner, an accident. Not that she'd gotten sick. And especially something that results in memory loss. She suddenly had a clear but unwanted image of a young Stiles trying to relate to his mother who no longer knew him.

"That must have been so hard," Natalie said softly.

"I was nine." Stiles tried to give a noncommittal shrug but it was evident on his face that it wasn't okay. It was still hard for him. She squeezed his had gently, wanting him to receive the message. I'm here.

"It's unfair when a loved one is ripped from us isn't it?" Tom asked, catching Lydia's eye as he spoke. Lydia bit down on her lip and avoided his eyes, focusing on her dinner instead.

Stiles glanced at her questioningly. "Yeah," he said slowly.

"I lost my son a few months back," Tom said. Lydia closed her eyes. He was drunk. He had to be. He never discussed Turner sober.

"Lydia mentioned it," Stiles said softly. "I'm very so-"

"Oh she mentioned it? Now I bet she didn't tell you everything."

"Dad!" Lydia looked at him, eyes widening in surprise.

Stiles gave her hand another squeeze and kept eye contact with her father. "She doesn't need to," he said evenly. "I'm in her corner no matter what. I don't need to know the details to know she's hurting. And once I know she's hurting all I need to know is 'how can I help?'."

"And what if she doesn't want it?"

"Everyone wants it. They just need it in different ways."

Lydia stared at Stiles, overwhelmed with pride. He was sitting straight, jaw set, eyes never straying from her father, voice strong.

"Well I haven't found it yet," Tom said. "She won't let me help."

"I don't see you trying." Stiles looked at Natalie as Tom's face turned purple with anger. "Thank you, Mrs. Martin, this is delicious. But I have a feeling I'm not welcome right now."

Natalie slowly nodded. "You're welcome..."

Lydia slowly got up from the table and led Stiles out, her mind reeling. The moment they got outside, Stiles pulled her closer, raising his hand to her cheek. "Are you okay?" He whispered. "You're shaking."

"No I'm-" Lydia stopped and looked at the hand that wasn't in Stiles's. It was shaking. "I didn't realize. I'm sorry Stiles. I'm so sorry about him." The words spilled from her lips. "He gets like that when he drinks."

"He had no right to say any of it." Even now his voice was even. "He was wrong, Lyds. It wasn't your fault."

"You don't know what happened." She looked at the grass, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes.

Stiles gently used two fingers to raise her face back up. "I don't have to." They stood for a few moments without movement, his eyes blazing with a protective fire, hers dancing with emotion and the pain of the ghosts that plagued her. Then he moved ever so slightly, just barely leaning towards her, his lips parting only slightly. But then he pulled away and dropped his hand, stepping back, making Lydia think she imagined the first movement. "Meet me in the treehouse when you can?"

"Okay," she said quietly.

"I'll be there," he said gently. "I promise."

"Thank you," she murmured. She watched as he vanished into the house. Then she took a shaking breath and went into her own house like a soldier walking into battle and trying to be brave when they'd already given all they had.


	7. Battlefield Part Two

Scott, I'm freaking out.

Dude, what?

I almost kissed Lydia.

Almost?

I chickened out.

Shalalala, my oh my

What?

Looks like the boy's too shy.

I hate you.

Ain't gonna kiss the girl.

You are truly the worst

Shalalala, ain't that sad. Such a shame, too bad. Gonna miss the girl.

I never liked you.

Stiles glared at his phone and put it in his pocket before turning into the kitchen. "Dad? I'm home." No answer. "Dad?" Stiles hesitated before venturing into the dining room, heart pounding.

His dad set the phone on the table as he came in. "Stiles, we have to talk..."

Lydia didn't even have to enter the dining room to hear them.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Natalie was nearly yelling.

"I didn't do anything wrong. That boy was out of line."

"He was not! He was defending your daughter! The daughter that you were degrading in front of him!"

"I did not degrade her."

"Oh? Then what would you call that? Making those remarks? They were completely unnecessary. Turner was not her fault."

"Then who's was it?"

"Nobody's! Oh my gosh! You have to stop! You cannot go on like this! It's things like this that's why we got divorced in the first place."

"And his affair." Lydia leaned against the doorway, glaring in the room. "Or did you forget about that? You certainly act like it."

"Lydia." Natalie turned to her. "Honey."

"You don't understand," Tom snapped. "You're just a child, Lydia."

"I'm not a child. I'm old enough to understand. You didn't think I was too much of a child to understand when you left us for Scarlett. Oh, wait, that's right. She was pregnant."

"Lydia," Natalie said gently.

"What?" Lydia spun on her. "Just because Turner is gone and Scarlett left Dad, does that mean we pretend he wasn't concieved? Dad didn't knock up a woman not his wife?"

"Lydia," Tom said warningly.

"I am sick of you saying my name like that!" She snapped. Tears welled behind her eyes and as badly as she wanted to hold it in it seemed impossible. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" And it was. Tears spilled down her cheeks without enough warning to truly stop it. "I am so sorry! I wish I could go back and- and fix it! I miss him too." She turned on her heels and ran upstairs, unable to do it anymore.

Lydia glanced at Stiles's window and bit her lip. Was he okay? He said he'd be in the tree house but he wasn't here and she'd been waiting for a half hour.

When Stiles finally came through the window he looked tired. "Hey," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Is everything okay?" She asked, studying his face. He was more than tired. He looked exhausted. He looked... He looked like he was losing a battle.

"Yeah." He gave her the ghost of a smile and pulled her into his arms as he sat against the wall that faced the pictures. She sat against his chest as his arms wove their way around her waist. It was a rather intimate position for them but she didn't stop him. She had a feeling they both needed each other right now. "Everything's fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said numbly.

"Liar." He rested his forehead on the top of her head.

"So are you," she whispered.

"I'm just worried about you," he said softly. Lydia bit her lip and wondered if she should push or not.

"Please?" His voice cracked ever so slightly and Lydia turned her head to look at him. His eyes were shining with forced back tears. "Please, Lyds," he whispered again.

"Okay," she finally whispered back. She rested her head against his chest again and closed her eyes.

"My dad cheated on my mom," she murmured. "He had an affair. And the girl got pregnant. Mom kicked him out and he moved in with the girl and they had Turner..." Her voice broke on his name. "When he died my mom was trying to comfort him and they ended up deciding to give it another shot." She then let out a shaky breath. "He hates me," she finally whispered.

"Lydia... No," Stiles said softly, running his fingers through her hair.

"He does. He does. Because it was Turner and not me. Because it's my fault."

"Whatever happened it's not your fault..."

"It is." She looked at him. "It is. It was all my fault. It's all my fault." She rested her head on his chest as the sobs came. "I'm so sorry Turner... I loved him so much..."

Stiles tightened his arms around her and pressed his lips against the top of her head. He slowly rocked her back and forth as she cried, as if maybe he could shield her just a little from all of the pain.


	8. How to Live

"It'll be fun, Lydia!" Allison stretched across her bed and grinned at her. "Stiles will be there."

Lydia bit her lip, not wanting to admit that that did make it more appealing. "But a beach party? Could that be more cliche?"

Allison grinned and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Come on Lydia. Admit it. It sounds fun. You, me, Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Kira... The whole crew."

"And half of the school." Lydia leaned back against the back of her chair. She hadn't been to a party of any type since they'd lost Turner.

"Lydia I'm not going to make you go," Allison said. "I just... I think that you need to..."

"Get away from my dad?"

"Learn to keep living," Allison said gently.

Lydia looked out the window at the treehouse between her bedroom and Stiles's. He was in there, printed out pictures in his mouth as he pinned them one at a time to the wall. As if he could feel her watching, he looked at her and gave a happy grin and a wave of his hand. The pictures spilled onto the floor and his limbs went every direction in a mad attempt to catch them before crouching to pick them up and throwing her an embarrassed grimace.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I'll go."

"Ly-dia!" Stiles cheered as Lydia and Allison came towards them on the sand. Stiles bounded to them and skidded to a stop as he reached them. He threw Lydia a grin. "You wore heels to the beach."

"I can't believe she can walk in them."

"Relax. They're only three inches." Lydia grinned between them.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I wear three inches every day."

Lydia kicked them off by their now fallen beach bags and said without missing a beat, "I knew it."

Stiles grinned at her. "Do you know what I'm doing now?"

She eyed him distrustfully then gasped and tried to run but he caught her around the waist and lifts her up. Lydia squealed a laugh. "Stiles!"

He took off running for the water and raced into the waves then threw himself into the water with her.

Lydia surfaced, shaking with laughter. She grinned at him. "You pain in the ass!"

Stiles laughed and spread his arms. "Welcome to the beach party!"

"I hate this song!" Lydia said, glancing at the place where everyone was gathered together dancing.

"I'm calling your bluff on that." Stiles leaned back on his arms and grinned at her. "You like it."

"Oh really? How do you know?"

"The back of your brother's picture. You wrote the lyrics." Stiles watched her and whispered under his breath, "It's been a long day... Without you my friend..."

"And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again." Lydia looked at him and gave a small smile. "You win."

"Nice try though. You also like Kesha. I hear it from your room."

Lydia grinned. "You don't have to know everything."

"That is not nearly as much fun."

Lydia laughed. Stiles smiled at her, watching her intently.

Then something cut through them, through the music. A ringtone. Stiles grabbed his phone and answered. "Hello? Yes. I-It's me. I- Is it my- Shit." stiles was on his feet. "Is he okay?"

Lydia slowly got up. "Stiles?"

"Oh my gosh. I'll be right there." His eyes were wide, his breathing was picking up. "I- Give me just a few minutes. I will be right there. Please don't leave him Melissa. Please." Stiles pocketed his phone and then grabbed his shoes and then was tearing across the sand.

"Stiles!" Lydia stared after him. She scrambled to her feet and raced after him. By the time she reached the parking lot, he was driving out of it.

Anxiety pounded through her as she returned to the party. Her head was spinning. What had happened? Was he okay?

She managed to find Allison, who was sitting on the sand by the water. "Do you know what happened to Stiles? Where's Scott?"

Allison pointed. "On the phone." She bit her lip. "His mom called... It doesn't sound good."

Scott slowly came back to them, his face pale. "It was my mom. Stiles's dad had a heart attack."


	9. Breathe

Lydia followed Scott into the hospital, her head buzzing. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Yeah. My mom told me."

Lydia bit her lip and hesitated for a second before following."is he gonna be okay?" Nothing. "Scott!" The silence Sheriff Stilinski worrying.

"I don't know." Scott led her into a hallway. Stiles got to his feet as they came around the corner. "Is he okay?"

Stiles pursed his lips and looked away. "I don't know yet. I guess so. For now."

"For now?" lydia asked. Stiles turned to her, his eyes widening slightly as if he was seeing her for the first time. She reached out, intertwined her fingers with his. "Stiles?" She prompted gently.

"It... It doesn't look good overall. It's not good." His voice cracked.

Scott paled. "Surgery?"

"We might have to."

Lydia looked between them. "A heart attack doesn't usually lead to surgery. What am I missing?"

Stiles pursed his lips and looked at the floor. "You need to say it out loud," Scott said quietly.

"My dad... My dad..."

Melissa McCall came down the hallway. Stiles immediately moved into action, going to meet her. His arms went around her and his face went into the crook of her neck, his body shaking as he broke down.

"I know sweetheart," she whispered, rubbing his back. "We can fix this. It still isn't a death sentence. It just means the preventative measures didn't work as well as we'd hoped..."

Lydia looked at Scott. "What is going on?" She asked quietly.

Scott hesitated. "Stiles really needs to tell you."

"He doesn't want to tell me Scott."

"That's the point."

"This is the second one, Melissa," Stiles whispered as he slowly released Scott's mom. "The second one. That's not good... That's a bad sign actually." His voice was shaking.

"I know hon. I know. But we can handle this. We can make it work. I promise. Go get some food."

"I'm not hungry."

"Stiles," she said, the Mom tone radiating in her voice. "Go. You need a breather." She caught Lydia's eye and nodded.

Lydia may not have known Melissa too well but she liked her. And she knew that Melissa knew how close she and Stiles had become.

She went to Stiles and slipped her hand

Back into his. "Come on," she said gently. "Let's go." She pulled on his arm gently, leading him down the hall. He didn't move at first, his gaze going from Melissa to the closed door that had to lead to his father's room.

"Stiles," she whispered. He looked at her, eyes wide and slowly nodded. She led him down the hall. "How about ice cream?"

"Sure." His voice was flat, expressionless.

"Stiles?" She looked up at him. "Do you need to talk?"

Stiles shook his head then pursed his lips as they walked. Then he stopped walking, his grip on her hand forcing her to walk as well. "Lydia."

She turned to him. "Stiles...?" She stepped closer.

His brown eyes were tortured, pained, reflecting pools of unshed tears. "My dad is sick."

"I know... He'll be okay," she said gently.

"No. He's sick. He has Coronary artery disease. We tried eating better, exercise, every medicine they threw at him... Obviously nothing has worked. Now... They're talking about bypass surgery."

Lydia stared at him. "I... Stiles..."

"And I know. At least it's not cancer. But... I already watched one parent die. I can't do this again. Is there something wrong with me? Am I doing something to send them to early deaths? Am I too much trouble? Am... Am I killing them?" He choked on the words.

"No... Stiles..." Her hand went through his hair, gently pushing it back. "Stiles... Why would you think that?"

"Maybe it's true. Maybe she was right. Maybe I killed her."

Something has changed in his face. It was almost like she could see him check out of the conversation. He stared around the hospital and pointed. "Right there... She and I were right there and she said... She said..."

"Stiles?" Lydia could feel her heartbeat rise with panic.

"She said she would leave me. She said she and my dad would stay. She said... Lydia she said..." His knees buckled and he went crashing to the ground, legs spreading around him as he gasped for air.

Lydia's eyes widened and she dropped beside him. "Stiles. Oh my gosh. Stiles."

His eyes widened with realization. "I'm having a panic attack."

Lydia touched his cheek with her fingertips. "What do I do? Stiles? What do I do?"

He shook his head, his hand turning into a fist as he bit the knuckle of his thumb.

She gently put her hand on his and guided it from his mouth. "Stiles. Please. Breathe. One..."

"I can't," he gasped out.

"Stiles..." And then she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed him.

It lasted only a few seconds but it was the most colorful and bright moment of her life. She melted into it and she could feel the very second that he did as well, falling into the emotions and away from the shock and fear.

When she finally broke the kiss, it took her several moments to open her eyes. When she did, Stiles was staring at her with wide eyes.

"How did you do that?" He whispered.

"I read that holding your breath can stop a panic attack... And... When I kissed you, you held your breath..."

"I did?"

"Yeah... You did..."

Stiles stared at her. "That... That was really smart... Thank you..." He fell back on his back.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

"I'm completely exhausted now," he said quietly. "And I'm still scared. Just not..."

"Panicking?"

"Yeah... Not much better though..."

"I am so sorry..."

"Me too..."

There were footsteps and then Melissa came into view. "Stiles," she said gently. "You can see your dad now."


	10. Can't Stop Now

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait but the story is completed and just waiting to be updated now so updates will be smoother and faster! Let me know what you think!_

"Dad." Stiles stood in the hospital room, unable to do anything but stare at him. After all, he wanted to say everything. He wanted to ask if he was okay, he wanted to tell him that he wasn't going anywhere, he wanted to say that he was here. He wanted to say that he was sorry, that he never wanted to kill his mother and he never wanted to kill him too.

John smiled at his son. "Hey, Stiles... How are you kiddo?"

Stiles suddenly found it almost impossible to hold himself together. He moved to his dad's bedside, wrapping him in his arms and laying beside him.

"I've got you," John murmured.

Stiles wanted to tell him not to let go, to beg him not to release him, not to make him face the harsh reality of what could happen. He wanted to be held as if he were a child. He wanted to feel safe again.

But he didn't voice any of his thoughts.

Not even one. He just lay there and listened to his dad's breathing and tried hard not to sob.

When Stiles was with his dad, Lydia found it impossible to stand still. She paced the hallway, read everything she could find, and basically tried not to rip her hair out.

He was fine. He was with his dad. But she couldn't stop worrying.

When she saw Scott's mom, she jumped to her feet. "Mrs. McCall!"

Her heart thudded as the woman with the kind eyes turned to her. "Lydia?"

"I just... I... Can I... Can I do anything? For Stiles?"

Melissa hesitated then slowly came forward. "Honestly? Just remind him that he's not alone and you aren't leaving. And keep reminding him. He might try to pull away. I think he feels like it's his doing. He'll want to keep you safe. You can't let him. Just... Just keep reminding him." She looked at Lydia. "You care for him don't you?"

Lydia opened her mouth to say that he was her friend but then closed it. She knew what she was asking. She hesitated only slightly before answering her.

It had been the longest night of Stiles's life. And it still wasn't over. He sat in a chair after being told that his dad needed rest, he had to wait. Now he was camped out in a hospital chair, arms resting on his knees, hands folded at his lips, his teeth biting hard on his nail.

"Stiles..." Lydia sat beside him. "Here."

He looked at her, for one of the first times in his time with her only barely seeing her. She held out a cup of coffee. "It'll help."

"I don't need to be more wired," he said quietly, taking it from her.

"I know a thing or two about camping out in hospitals," she said gently. "Coffee helps. It actually calmed my nerves. People say it's bad for anxiety but it's always helped me."

Stiles took a sip and relished it. The bitterness seemed to bring him back to earth, back to this moment, out of his mind and wonderings of what would happen. "Thanks," he whispered. He glanced at her and hesitated before venturing to ask, "Was it Turner?"

Lydia was quiet as she stared into her coffee, her beautiful finger sliding around the edge of the cup. "Yes. He was in the hospital for close to twelve hours before... Before he..." She pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry." Stiles reached over and took her hand, enclosing it in his.

"Your dad will be okay." She looked at him. "You have to know that."

He looked at her, knowing, feeling how defeated and sad he knew he looked. "No. I don't know that. I knew that when my mom was sick, at first. I was so sure she could take it. I thought my parents were Batman and Wonderwoman. And then... she stopped breathing. She just... She just stopped."

Lydia watched him for a moment, gave his hand a soft squeeze. He closed his eyes and exhaled, as if she had taken away a physical burden. "I'm glad you're here," he breathed.

"Me too," she whispered. "Me too..."

Stiles leaned over and rested his head on her shoulder and, before he knew it, he began to cry. Lydia wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair, whispering to him.

"Why do people die?" he finally murmured.

"I don't know," Lydia whispered back. "I wish I did... But I don't know either... It's not fair..."

"It's not..." Stiles gave a small hiccup as his breathing began to settle again. His arms tightened around her, almost afraid that she would leave him if he didn't. But she didn't even try to budge. She stayed.

"He'll fight for you," Lydia whispered.

"My mom fought too," he whispered.

Lydia looked at him sadly, pushing his hair out of his face with her finger tips before pulling him back into her arms. "I know," she whispered. She planted a soft kiss on his neck. "I know..." her fingers stroked through his hair, gently rubbing his scalp with her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall, listening to his breathing. "Stiles?" She whispered.

"Yeah?" He murmured back.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He looked up at her, brown eyes so sad that it broke her heart. He looked like a puppy in a shelter as he stared at her through his lashes. "Thank you." His voice was hoarse.

Lydia leaned down and pressed her lips against his nose. He closed his eyes and relaxed even more the moment her lips touched him.

And it was then, right then, that Lydia realized how much trouble she was in. But she couldn't stop- didn't want to stop- falling in love with Stiles Stilinski.


	11. Heartbeats

When Lydia moved to Beacon Hills, she had never expected this. She hadn't expected to make friends because she didn't want them just as much as she wanted them. She didn't feel that she deserved them. But here she was, sitting on the Stilinski's lawn with the teenagers who had become her friends.

Allison sat on the grass beside her and rested her head on Lydia's shoulder. "Do you like him?"

"What?" lydia asked, startled.

"Stiles." Allison looked up at her, eyes wide with curiosity. "You can be honest. I won't judge."

Lydia bit her lip. "I..." She thought about her feelings for Stiles. She knew what she felt. But she didn't want to share it, not with anyone. It was as if talking about it would somehow take away from it.

She was spared answering by Stiles's blue Jeep rolling into the driveway. Stiles clambered out of the driver's side and hurriedly moved to the passenger door. Before he got there, Sheriff Stilinski got out, throwing his son an amused expression. "I can work a door, Stiles."

Stiles bounced from foot to foot, anxiety and agitation written all over his features. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it, at a lost for words.

John Stilinski gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. I promise."

Scott hurried to the two of them and started leading them to the front door. "Come on. Welcome home. You guys have food stored up. Casseroles and stuff, curtesy of neighbor's and friends."

John fixed Scott with a look. "Meaning your mom."

Scott flashed him a sheepish grin. "Yeah."

Lydia gave a small grin and got to her feet with Allison. She behind Stiles and took his hand. "How do you feel?" She whispered.

"Okay," he said quietly after a moment.

Lydia rested her chin on his shoulder. "You don't have to lie," she whispered.

Stiles glanced at her, his face very close to hers. Her eyes darted to his lips automatically. He was close... So close. Close enough to kiss. "I'm worried," he whispered finally. "I feel like it's a matter of time before it goes bad..."

"That's okay, you know," she whispered. "It's okay to be scared."

Stiles gave her a small smile. "Treehouse tonight?"

"I would never miss it."

His smile was true and bright, still slightly haunted and worried but real. It was Stiles and Lydia loved it.

-  
"How's Stiles's dad?" Natalie handed Lydia a pot, which she dried and put in the cupboard under the counter.

"Okay. He's probably going to have to have surgery but he's home so I think everyone feels a little better."

"And Stiles?"

Lydia looked at her mom, who was giving her a knowing look. Lydia couldn't stop a small smile and ducked her head to try to hide it. "He's... He's doing okay."

"Well." Natalie was still watching her. "He has you. And I'm glad for that."

"I just hope I can help him. I mean... I worry about him."

"Lydia." Natalie turned off the water. "Honey, listen. I haven't seen you like this since..." She trailed off. "Well. It's been a long time.

"I know," Lydia said. "There hasn't been much to... I don't know. To be happy about."

Natalie gave her a soft smile. "Thats the thing. It's not that things are that much easier. It's that this boy is helping you deal. I think he might be the one you talk to, the one you tell about what happened."

Lydia shook her head. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away, wishing she would never have to think about hat much less talk about it. "Mom. I don't-"

"Hear me out. You have to deal. And I think Stiles is going to help you. I think this boy is the best thing that could have happened to you."

Lydia looked at her mom then. "What if I get hurt?" She whispered.

Her mother looked her dead in the eyes as she answered. "Lydia, you will get hurt. Because nothing is perfect. It's inevitable. But if he's right for you, he'll help heal the hurt."

\- - -

Lydia was in the treehouse long before Stiles. She didn't mind: she needed to think.

Sometimes she thought that anything more than a friendship with Stiles would be a mistake. How could she risk what they had?

So many things could go wrong and how could she ever risk the one thing that made her feel that like was worth it? Worth all the ups and downs, worth the pain, worth the fear.

No. They were better off not going after more. It wasn't worth the risk. Lydia couldn't risk him. He needed her just as much as she needed him.

And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Stiles climbed into their sanctuary. "Hey." He slid into a sitting position beside her.

"Hey."

Stiles had something in his hands. He was messing with it, moving it between his fingers, his eyes focused on it. "Isaac thinks I should get rid of the Jeep. Get a new car."

Lydia looked at him. "It having trouble right?"

Stiles ducked his head, giving a small laugh. To anyone else it would have sounded light, normal. But Lydia heard his voice shake and crack, heard the unshed tears. "It's a piece of shit."

"tell me what's wrong," she whispered. "Why's it so important?"

"It was hers," he finally whispered. "My mom's. She left it for me."

Lydia stared at him, all words leaving her. What could she possibly say to that? What could she say to make that even remotely okay?

Stiles shook his head. "It's not like it makes her here. It's not like I can talk to her. I don't know why it matters."

"Hey..." Lydia cupped his cheek in her hand, turning his face to look at her. "It matters."

Stiles shook his head, eyes glistening with tears.

Lydia rested her forehead against his, once again feeling the closeness. They were right there. He was right there. "It matters," she whispered. "You matter. She matters."

Stiles's beautiful golden eyes searched hers, as if looking for answers. And maybe he was. She had looked to him for answers too many times to count. "What happens when I can't fix it?"

Lydia stroked his cheek gently. "Then we fix it together."

Stiles stared into her eyes for what felt like forever.

One heartbeat.

He was still staring.

Two heartbeats.

His lips parted, as if hit with a realization.

Three heartbeats.

His eyes widened, still staring.

Four heartbeats.

He kissed her.

Five heartbeats.

Lydia's arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer, refusing to let him go. She arched into him, her lips desperately moving against his.

Six heartbeats.

Stiles's arms tightened around her, almost desperately. Lydia's fingers moved through his hair. This was it.

This was worth it. He was worth it.

Seven heartbeats.

Moving as one, they lay against the floor, still kissing, completely entranced in each other.


	12. Tanner

_"NO! I'm sorry! No! Tanner! Please! Please don't! No!" Lydia slumped against her mother even as she fought to get into the room again, as if she could bring his heartbeat back._

_"TANNER! Don't you dare leave me! No! No! Don't stop fighting! Don't do it! Tanner! Tanner, please! Please, stay! Tanner!" Her voice ripped from her as she sobbed, her throat burning but she didn't notice. Nothing mattered._

_"Tanner..." She sobbed into her mother, who stubbornly held her._

_She looked at her father desperately but he just shook his head and walked away, his own pain seeming to radiate off of him._

"Lydia!"

She woke with a gasp, her cheeks cold and wet. She looked to the side to see Stiles, his hand on her shoulder. He was leaning over her, his eyes concerned and worried. She fell into his bare chest, sobbing against him.

"I have you," he whispered, "I have you."

"What happened?" She managed to choke out.

"You were sleep talking..."

Lydia took a shaky breath. "What did I say?"

"Tanner's name... And... You said "please stay." You asked him to stay..." His hand cupped her cheek. "Lyds..."

She shook her head and took another breath. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

Lydia looked at him for a moment before pressing her lips against his. When she pulled away, she whispered, "I'm positive."

Stiles looked at her hesitantly, obviously thinking that she wasn'tbeing honest with him. He still looked concerned.

"How are _you_?" Lydia whispered

Stiles hesitated. "I'm okay. I... I really..." He hesitated. "My dad's going to be okay," he said slowly, "because I won't let him not be."

Lydia nodded slowly. "Does he know when the surgery is?"

"He said they've scheduled him for the 5th."

Lydia nodded. "Okay." She fell quiet, unable to stop her thoughts from drifting back to her dream. Tanner. In a way her father was right. Why was it that she could live and he had to die?

"Lyds?" Stiles whispered.

"I'm okay." She knew she needed to talk to him. He needed to know. Of course he needed to know. It was more than that- she wanted him to know.

But not now. She couldn't relive his death and the accident too. Not right now. But he was going to ask. He was too concerned not to.

"I need to get home," she said softly, slowly getting dressed. "But hey." She pulled him to her and kissed him quickly. "Do you want to go out tonight? Like out?"

Stiles perked up, his eyes lighting with excitement. "Like a date?"

She smiled. "Yeah. And if you want I'll tell you everything."

"Okay." His fingers slid through her hair. "But you know you don't have to tell me anything. I'd never push you."  
"Really?"

"Always."

She couldn't stop her smile as she kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

Stiles was humming when he entered the kitchen, pulling out what he needed to make a doctor approved breakfast for him and his dad. John cocked an eyebrow at him and cleared his throat.

Stiles glanced over. "Hi. Hungry?"

John raised his eyebrow higher.

"I take that as a yes."

John made a small, curious sound.

Stiles sighed. "Yes?"

"You're in much better than you were last night."

"Am I?"

"More relaxed."

"Oh." Stiles smiled to himself as he turned to his cooking. "Are you drinking enough water?"

"I'm fine," John replied, still sounding amused.

"You sure?"

He could practically hear his father rolling his eyes. "I'm sure son."

Stiles looked back at him over his shoulder. He hesitated for only a second before making his way to him and kneeling down in front of him. "Dad," he said slowly. "I need you to stay with me. Nothing can happen to you." His voice was surprisingly steady, full of conviction. "You're going to be fine."

Josh looked him dead in the eyes as he answered, "I know. I'm not going anywhere."

Stiles's eyes rested on his father for a long moment before he finally nodded and turned away. For the first time in ages, he actually felt like things were going to be okay.

Until the phone rang and they weren't.

-  
Her hands were shaking as she called him. She didn't want to tell him. Telling him, actually talking to him about this, would just make it real.

"Hello? Mrs. Martin?" Stiles asked. "What's going on?"

She tried to keep her composure, at least in her voice. But the moment her mouth opened a sob escaped. "Lydia's been in an accident Stiles. We're at the hospital."

* * *

An accident. Lydia had been in an accident. There was an accident. An...

His thoughts trailed off as his fingers raked through his messier than usual hair, his elbows on his knees as he sat in the waiting room. All he could do was stare at the sterile floor and think about how often he had found himself here in his life.

_It should have been me. Why is it never me?_

Stiles gritted his teeth and shoved his fist to his mouth in a maddening effort not to scream. Lydia. His Lydia. Right after he, after they... But before he could do everything in his power to make her happy, before he could tell her how he felt.

"Stiles."

His head jerked up so quickly that his neck gave a shirt burst of pain. Natalie Martin swam in front of his eyes and he quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. She sat down beside him.

"Where's Mr. Martin?" His voice sounded stiff and clenched, as if the sentence was nearly impossible to get out.

"At home. This... This is too much for him to process." Something about her tone made his heart twist with bitterness. Bitterness at the fact that he wasn't there for his daughter, bitterness at how he treated his family.

"Had he been drinking?" He asked after a moment, his voice not as clenched but still plain, emotionless.

Natalie was quiet for a moment. "Mm," she said softly in affirmation. She sighed. "I really thought it might work this time. But Lydia was right. I should have listened to her."

Her voice was twisted with guilt and for a moment, Stiles couldn't help but feel pleased at the sound. But then he reasoned to himself that he shouldn't, that she had had a right to try, that he wouldn't have met Lydia if she hadn't.

And he knew that he wouldn't have felt that angry feeling if he hadn't already been angry at the world for trying to take Lydia away. For possibly succeeding.

No. He couldn't think like that.

"Your daughter has an uncanny ability to be right constantly," he said softly, turning his head to look at the woman who seemed so wrenched apart.

A small smile forced its way onto her face and Stiles felt a small glow in his chest at having put it there. "I know," she whispered. She leaned back. "I can't believe this is happening."

Stiles shut his eyes and leaned back, slowly letting his breath out as he did so. "She's the safest driver I know," he finally said, forcing his voice to remain even. "How could this happen to her?"

Natalie's eyes filled with tears. "It was a drunk driver. He ran a read light and hit her as she was crossing the intersection."

Stiles was quiet for a long moment, a single question racing through his mind. He wanted to know, had to know, had to ask. But... But he had wanted Lydia to tell him when she was ready. He didn't want to intrude, didn't want to cross any lines. But this was different. She wasn't doing well, she might not be able to tell him. He opened his mouth, sucked in a breath, but then...

"You're getting ready to ask me about Tanner," Natalie murmured. She slowly turned her face to him and Stiles saw a tear trickle down her cheek. "Aren't you?"

Stiles bit his lip for only a moment before giving her a small nod of his head in response. He had to know. He had to know what had fueled Lydia so much, what was her father's problem. He had to have a moment where he was learning about Lydia, where it wasn't as if she were out of his grasp.

Natalie sniffed and nodded her head, running the back of her hand over her nose. "She told you how he was born?"

"Yeah," Stiles said softly. "She did. And that he passed... She..." His voice hiccuped and he almost told her to forget it, that he didn't need to know. "She thought it was her fault."

"I know she did." Natalie sighed softly and closed her eyes. "It wasn't her fault, you know. It really wasn't. But nothing will ever convince Lydia." Her hands were trembling lightly as she brought them to her lap. "It was a car accident. Lydia had gone to-"

And suddenly it was like a stone dropped in his stomach. Stiles was on his feet in an instant, the room swaying around him as if he were on a small boat. he shook his head, stumbled back. "I- I'm sorry," he said, not sure if his voice was as panicked as he thought it might be or not. "I can't do this. I can't-"

He stumbled outside and the moment the cool air of the night hit his face, his knees buckled. He fell to the ground as every flicker of painful, overwehlming, crushing panic that he had been keeping down since he heard about Lydia's accident came over him in a huge wave. His hands hit the pavement and he dropped his head, letting it hang as he shut his eyes.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't betray her trust. It had to come from Lydia and if it didn't...

If he let Natalie tell him the truth, everything behind Tanner, then it was as if he were giving up on Lydia. It was as if he really didn't think she would come back to him. And he couldn't give up on her. He wouldn't.

Stiles didn't go back inside until he saw Allison's silver car swing into a spot. He watched from his spot on the ground as his entire group climbed out of the vehicle. After seeing him, it took Scott about three seconds to be on the ground beside him, one hand coming to his back and the other reaching to Stiles's shoulder furthest from him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes earnest and honestly, completely caring. Stiles nodded, wondering numbly how he could ever lie to that face. but Scott's eyes flashed with a knowing look that brought the only small amount of comfort Stiles had been able to feel all night.

_I know,_ Scott's eyes were saying. _It's okay._

but it wasn't okay. He couldn't lose Lydia. He couldn't stand the thought. For crying out loud, she had her whole life ahead of her! She was supposed to meet Malia when she came back from traveling with her family. She still had to graduate, had to go to prom. This wasn't okay, it wasn't fair, it wasn't right, it wasn't anything but sick. Stiles's stomach gave a painful lurch, making him think briefly that he really might _be_ sick.

But then Scott's arms were around him and Stiles clapped his around his friend, his brother, and held on tight. He gave in at long last, allowing the tears to fall into the material of Scott's shirt. He didn't even notice as the rest of the group made their way inside, didn't care. All that mattered was him and his best friend, who in that moment was the only thing keeping him grounded to life, to reality.

Scott, as many times before, was the only thing keeping him sane.

It felt like years before Natalie could go see her. And it was even longer before Stiles could. Melissa walked with him down the hallway. they stopped in front of her room and Stiles felt the world swim again.

Melissa gripped his hand suddenly, her brown eyes fixed on him with such concern that it sent a jolt of pain through his heart. "Stiles," she said softly. "It's o-"

Stiles didn't think about it for even a moment before he acted. He turned and pulled Melissa into a hug, his face burying itself swiftly into the crook of her neck. He needed her more than he needed air right then. He needed a mom.

After losing his, and growing so close to his father and then... And then having to face the thought of losing him, and now Lydia... He couldn't take it. He couldn't stand one more moment.

Melissa held him tightly to her as she stroked his hair, making soft noises of comfort as she did. He had to force himself away from her when he released her. His eyes rested on hers as he pulled away, towards the door.

"Thanks," he said softly, forcing himself to hold in that one other word that had always applied to Melissa. _Mom. Thanks, Mom._

She gave him a soft, sad smile and reached out, her hand coming to his cheek gently. "You're welcome, son," she whispered softly. Slowly, her arm dropped and she walked away.

Stiles sucked in a shaky breath and went inside the room.


	13. Hello

Watching everything from a distance, being separated from her life, from her body was the weirdest thing Lydia had ever experienced. Lydia could only stand and stare as she watched Stiles stare at her helplessly from his chair.

"Please," he whispered, "please, Lydia..." His voice broke and her heart shattered at the impact of his words.

She held her hand up, feeling as if there was a wall of glass between them. But there wasn't.

And yet she couldn't reach him.

She stared at her unconscious body on the bed and slowly moved around to it. She looked oddly peaceful, even with the cuts on her face, the bruises on her arms. She looked like...

"Me," said a soft voice behind her. "You look like me."

Lydia's hand flew to her mouth in shock and she spun around. Sure enough, there he was. Tanner was standing in front of her. He looked older now, probably about twelve. But even with the eight year change Lydia would have known her baby brother anywhere.

"Tanner," she whispered, slowly reaching out. "You can't... You're not... Are you real?"

Tanner gave her a sad smile. "I'm real."

Lydia let out a strangled sob and stumbled forward. Her baby brother caught her and held her as she cried, her arms going around him.

Tanner hugged her close and whispered, "I'm okay Lyds."

"You're not okay! You're dead! I crashed! I crashed the car. It was me..."

Tanner pulled away from her enough to look her in the face. "Listen to me. It was not your fault." His eyes were sad but stern. "Lydia? It wasn't your fault."

"It was." Lydia nodded, her tears making it impossible to see Tanner clearly, and hardly at all. She stopped talking and quite nearly even stopped crying as the weight of her realization hit her. "You're not real. You're... You can't be. You're only four."

Tanner smiled softly, a slight playful spark on his face. "Lydia. I'm not alive. There are no rules."

Lydia looked back at Stiles sitting with her body, her stomach dropping. "I'm going to die." Stiles... She couldn't just leave him. He needed her.

"Not if you decide to fight." His hand rested on her shoulder. "Lydia... This is your choice. Stay... Or go."

She looked at Tanner, her eyes softening as she did. "I..." She looked back at Stiles. She didn't have much of a choice. Live, of course she had to live. But she felt tired, lost. And Tanner... She finally had Tanner. "How would I do it? Go back?"

Tanner gave her a small smile. "You have to fight, Lyds. It's not going to be easy. You're going to have to fight to wake up."

Lydia slowly walked to her body and crouched beside it, taking in every cut, every bruise. Then her eyes lifted to look at Stiles who was bent over her form, biting down so hard on his lip that she was surprised it wasn't bleeding.

His body language was obvious to her. _Please, don't go. Please, stay with me. Please, I need you. Please. Please, please, please. I can't lose you too. Please, stay._

Her heart broke as she looked at her baby brother. Her eyes filled with tears as Tanner slowly bent down beside her. "It's okay, Lydia," he said quietly. "It's okay. You can say it."

"I have to try to stay," she finally whispered.

"No try." Tanner's hand cupped her chin, holding his eyes to hers. "That's making leaving an option. You have to have the fight to stay."

"Okay," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"Say it," Tanner whispered back. "Say it, Lydia."

"I'm going to stay."

"Again."

"I'm going to stay."

His eyes said the words his lips didn't. _Again, Lydia._

"I will stay."

His head dipped just slightly, silently egging her on.

"I'm going to stay. I'm going to live." A tear slipped down as the touch of Tanner's hand slowly began to flicker in and out. She could actually feel him; his touch there one moment and gone the next.

"Good," he whispered. "Good."

"Tanner," she croaked out. She had to say it, just once. "It should have been me. It's not fair."

Tanner gave her a small smile as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers. "Stiles needed you, Lyds. You had more work to do. You still do. Mine was done." He gave her a small smile. "It's okay, Lydia. I got to do the best work of all. I got to touch your life."

Lydia gave in a sob and her body shook but she refused to lose the contact with her little brother, refused to let their foreheads part.

"You always took care of me." His voice was hushed, as if he were afraid he wouldn't have time to say it all. "Always. I love you, Lyds. You did everything you could. It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault."

And then he faded away. Lydia folded in half with sobs, almost shocked that people from the physical world couldn't hear her. Her body shook again and again as she cried, filled with the pain of it, the pain of losing Tanner, the pain of feeling him fade away.

But then it was over. And she was seated in a car. She was in the backseat a car with a little boy seated in the middle seat, right beside her. He was playing with a Transformer action figure. Her heart jolted. Tanner, at four years old. She looked around the car and recognized it with a horrible twist of her stomach.

It was her car.

She'd seen this all before but from another angle.

And then she watched herself turn her head just slightly to check on Tanner. "You got Optimus, buddy?" past-Lydia asked.

"Yeah." Tanner held him up to show her and the went back to playing as she turned to the road.

No.

_No._

"Turn the car around," Lydia gripped the seat in front of her, staring at the other her in the drivers seat. She, of course, couldn't hear her. "Turn the car around!" she screamed.

"Where are we going?" Tanner asked.

"We're going to get Courtney." The irritation in past-Lydia's voice was evident. She let out an irritated sigh and shook her head.

Lydia slammed her hand on the backseat. "NO! FUCK!"

Tanner kept playing with his toy, only looking up when the car stopped in front of a house that was quite obviously the place of a party. Lydia's heart plummeted. No. No. She tried to move, tried to do something to stop it, but she couldn't move anymore than she could warn them. Her eyes burned with tears as she struggled.

Courtney stumbled across the grass, laughing stupidly as she struggled with the door. She was too drunk to work it herself. Past-Lydia gave a disgusted grunt as she leaned over and opened the door.

"Don't!" Lydia gasped as the door opened. Courtney climbed in the passenger seat and Lydia felt tears fall down her cheeks. "This can't be happening. Why is this happening?"

Tanner was quiet in the back, sensing the mood. He was always perceptive. It was a gift. Lydia stared at him, trying to think, trying to find some way to alter the events that were about to happen. This wasn't fair. She couldn't do this again.

_It's not going to be easy._ Tanner's words minutes before rang in her ears.

Was this some sort of sick test? Because she quit, it wasn't worth it. Fuck it, fuck, fuck, shit! It wasn't worth it! She beat her hand against the window again.

"Lydia!" Courtney leaned over to past-Lydia as the car started to move. "It was so much fun and Randy told me that I'm hot. He is so smoking," she slurred.

Past-Lydia gave her an irritated look. "Randy just wants to get in your pants and you know it."

Courtney shrugged and leaned back. "Whatever. He'd be fun."

Tanner was dead silent. This must have been when he had fallen asleep. Lydia's eyes darted to him. He was awake, sitting quietly, listening to every word.

"Courtney, it's six o'clock. I can't believe you," Past-Lydia said. "I can literally smell the alcohol. Do you realize that?"

"The music's quiet! I want to dance!" Courtney reached for the radio. Past-Lydia slapped her hand away.

"Courney, _no._"

"Courtney, yes!" she giggled, leaning back. "Randy told me I should say yes to everything. It's more fun."

"Yeah," past-Lydia scoffed. "It's a good way to get herpes with Randy."

"You're so much fun when you party. Why didn't you come?" Courtney asked.

"Tanner!" Past- Lydia snapped. "I think he's asleep so hush up!" but he wasn't. Lydia watched him curiously, almost too surprised to keep crying. He was wide awake. All this time she'd thought he'd fallen asleep.

"Lydia, turn up the music!" Courtney reached for the controls again.

"I said no," past-Lydia said, pushing Courtney's hand away. "Turner is asleep in the back. Courtney, I can't believe you!"

"No," Lydia said softly. "No. No, please! Please!"

And then the headlights came. Past-Lydia screamed and attempted to save it, attempted to maneuver the car. When she realized she couldn't, she started to reach for Tanner but then the crunch of metal hit and it all was lost in a mass of white light.

Before Lydia could even let out a scream of protest, she was in her car again, but the driver seat. She was in an intersection that she had driven through a million times. And then she was hit. The crunch of metal, the squeal of brakes and all she could think was that she had to live.

She hadn't gone through the worst night of her life for the second time to die now. She had to live, she had to make it, Stiles needed her. Her mother needed her. Allison needed her.. Stiles...

Lydia opened her eyes and gave a strangle gasp.


	14. Epilogue

Screams filled the small room, encircling around Stiles as he ducked his head. He grinned and brought his hand to the small of his girlfriend's back. Lydia grinned up at him and threw her head back, her small body shaking with laughter.

Malia grabbed Lydia's hand, pulling her away from Stiles and to her and the other two girls instead. Lydia gave Stiles a grin as she moved to the other three, joining them in the dance.

Stiles gave a small laugh as he looked around for Scott. After seeing no sign of him, he quickly put it together. He put his cup of punch into his other hand and made his way through the crowd in the busy gymnasium. He made his way out through the doors and went to stand beside Scott, who was staring out at the night sky.

"Hey," Stiles said.

Scott looked up at him. "We did it."

"We graduated," Stiles said with a grin. "Who would've thought we'd make it?"Scott made a small noise and Stiles ducked his head with a smile.

"You're missing the party," Stiles said.

Scott looked at him and nodded. "I'll go back in in a second. I just needed some air. I needed to think."

Stiles nodded. "It's been one hell of a year, huh?"

"It has."

"It ended pretty well." Stiles shook his head.

Scott nodded again. "After your dad's heart surgery, not much else could happen could it?"

Stiles gave a sigh in response. "Yeah. Well, nothing sucky. but I mean... Your mom hanging around wasn't a bad thing. Lecturing him about food. He never listened to me like that." Stiles put his free hand in his pocket, wishing he had left his drink inside.

Scott laughed softly, looking at his friend with a raised eyebrow. "Who would have thought that her getting on his case about healthy eating would have led to a wedding?"

Stiles grinned. "I feel ya, brother. But I sure as hell ain't gonna complain."

Scott grinned and ducked his head. "Me neither." They were quiet for a few minutes until Scott looked back at him. "Speaking of parents, how's Lydia's dad?" He reached over and took the cup from Stiles and took a drink.

"Better. Lydia's accident was a wake up call," Stiles said slowly. "He's quit drinking and he's really trying with her. But he's agreed to back off with Natalie. She's done once and for all. You can only go back so many times before it's really over, you know?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. I think it's best."

"For them and Lydia," Stiles agreed. Thinking about her accident brought Tanner to his mind. His gut twinged with sorrow as he thought of the boy with the big smile in the photographs. Lydia had told Stiles what had happened after she woke up. She'd cried as he held her, whispering to her that he had her, that it wasn't her fault.

But that, of course, could never _fix_ it. Words couldn't do that. Words could never mend a broken heart. Only time could.

The door banged open and Scott and Stiles both turned. Lydia and Allison made their way to them.

"Thinking about running away together?" Lydia teased as she wrapped her arms around Stiles's neck.

He smiled and leaned down. "Never without you." He brushed his lips against hers.

Lydia smiled up at him. "I love you."

"I love you too." He gently brushed her hair out of her face. "Want to get out of here?"

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, but her smile told him that she already knew.

"Home," he said softly.

"Absolutely."

They said their goodbyes and walked together towards the parking lot.

They were going home, but it wasn't a house or an apartment. It didn't have a heater or an air conditioner. It was simpler than that, just a treehouse stationed in an old tree.

But it had everything they needed, everything they wanted. It was the place to go to remember what they'd been through, what they'd suffered, and what they'd conquered. It was a place where her brother and his mother were together, always waiting for them.

Stiles opened Lydia's door and, as she got in, quietly muttered a curse under his breath. "I forgot to say hi to your mom."

Amusement sparked in Lydia's eyes. "Stiles, it's fine. We can text her."

He shook his head. "No, I''ll just run back real fast."

Lydia grabbed his shirt and pulled him down, planting a kiss on his lips. She slowly pulled away, looking him in the eyes. "We can call her," she whispered. "But, please, stay."

And he obeyed.

A/N: I am so sad it's over but I loved writing it. I loved every second and I hope you liked it too. Keep an eye out for new stuff!  
Let me know what you thought!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year guys!


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